It knows not how it sounds

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"𝕊ℍ𝕀𝕋. We got to get out of here," Annabelle declared, her eyes darting up the stairs before turning to face the group. "There's got to be another way."

Before she could move to search, Frank interjected, "No, I checked all the other doors. These are some kind of magnetically sealed locks, and these shutters are two inches thick." He turned to Sammy, who was visibly on edge, and asked, "You think you can hack the locks?"

Sammy, caught in the urgency of the moment, retorted, "With what internet?" Frank, desperate, pressed on, "I don't know. You-you can't do it manually?" Annabelle observed the exchange as Sammy replied, "Well, even if I could, I don't have any equipment. You know, there's got to be, like, a control room or something." Rubbing her eyes in frustration, Annabelle tried to refocus the group. "Okay. What do we know about vampires?"

Peter, still in disbelief, mumbled, "Th-that they're not real."

Ignoring him, Sammy turned to Annabelle, "What are we talking about, like Anne Rice or True Blood, you know, Twilight? Very different kinds of vampires."

Annabelle shook her head, determined to stay practical. "I'm sure the one we have is definitely not Edward. We know they feed off blood."

Sammy, still in shock, muttered, "We're really doing this right now?"

Annabelle continued, her mind racing through everything she knew about vampires, "They can turn other people into vampires." Sammy, exasperated, added, "Oh. Okay, fuck it. Um, they can turn into bats and stuff like that."

Frank chimed in, "Mind control, they make you do shit."

Annabelle nodded, adding more details from her scattered knowledge, "They don't have a reflection as mirrors back then were made out of pure steel and didn't show their reflections because they weren't portrayed as pure beings."

Peter, overwhelmed, covered his ears and turned away, "Not listening to this."

Ignoring him, Annabelle pressed on, "Okay, but the crucial question is how do we kill a vampire?"

Frank suggested, "Garlic."

Annabelle quickly followed up, "A stake through the heart."

"Crucifixes," Frank added.

"Holy water," Sammy chimed in.

Frank, ever sarcastic, commented, "Oh, you're a fucking priest now?"

Peter fiddled with his cross necklace, still struggling to grasp the reality of vampires, while Sammy continued, "Daylight is a big one." Frank checked his watch and replied, "Oh, that's a good one, but it's, mm, 3:30 in the fucking morning." Peter, on edge of a breakdown, shouted, "Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut the fuck up!" Frank stormed over, grabbing Peter's neck as if to choke him. "Hey, dum-dum, we got a real fucking situation here. So I don't give a shit what you think. Either you're helping us, or you're 270 pounds of dead weight. Which is it?"

Peter glared at Frank, "Helping." He gripped Frank's wrist, pulling his hand off his neck, and added in a warning tone, "Just don't do that again." Frank stared at Peter before yanking his wrist free and said, "There are pool cues in the game room. Go sharpen 'em into stakes."

Peter glared at Frank, nodded, then smiled, "Okay." He left to do the task.

Frank turned to Sammy, "You, go check the kitchen for garlic."

Sammy, incredulous, asked, "Alone?"

"Yes, alone," Frank replied.

She nodded, "Yep," and left.

Annabelle approached Frank. "What are you thinking?"

"I say we tool up and we kill him," Frank declared.

Annabelle countered, "That's a mistake. You said it yourself. This guy is smart. He's been manipulating us from the start. We don't know if any of this stuff is gonna work. And even if it does, killing him would be the stupidest thing we could do." Frank eyed her, "And why is that? You're going to miss your little boyfriend?"

Annabelle glared, "Because we'll lose the only bargaining chip we have."

"Well, what do you suggest?" Frank asked, getting in Annabelle's face.

"We trade him to Lazaar for our lives," she replied, not backing down.

Frank spoke firmly, "No. I'm not betting our lives on your fucking hunch." Annabelle rubbed her temples, clearly annoyed, before she spoke, "I'm telling you, he's gonna see you coming." Frank shook his head, "No. Debate is over. Decision made. Okay?" Annabelle was about to reply, but Sammy arrived with a bag of... onions. "I got 'em!" she announced proudly.

Frank replied, while Annabelle facepalmed, "Sammy, those are fucking onions."

Sammy looked at the bag and replied, "Well... I don't cook. I don't know."

Peter walked in with two sharpened stakes, and Frank commented, "Alright, let's go kill us a fucking... vampire."

Annabelle scoffed, "Good luck."

Frank turned to her, but before he could speak, Annabelle glared at him and said, "If you put your hand around my neck, you'll lose it and I'll feed it to Gabriel myself." Frank lifted his hands in surrender, "I'm not going to touch you. Go put your feet up." Turning to Sammy and Peter, Frank said, "You two, on me. Let's hit the kitchen first. Fucking onions."

With that, they left Annabelle alone. She watched them go, then walked off to another room, her mind racing with worry and determination.

🕯

After a few moments alone in the room, Annabelle heard music playing upstairs—a song that brought so much pain but also love to her, a song that was so familiar: Swan Lake. As its sweet melody filled the air, images flashed in her mind: a stage, people clapping, hands holding... Gabriel. Annabelle held her head and blinked multiple times, trying to puzzle it all together. She closed her eyes, and as if by muscle memory, she began to dance to it. Unbeknownst to her, she was mirroring the exact movements Gabriel was dancing to.

Meanwhile, Frank, Peter, and Sammy entered the room where the song was playing. They saw a small stage with Gabriel, covered in blood, dancing with a dead body—Dean's body. Gabriel noticed the three and dropped the body, acting frightened, "What's happening?" he said, "Let's... let's just talk."

Sammy, driven by fear and determination, ran at him with a stake in one hand and a bag of garlic the other. Gabriel let out an animalistic scream before tackling her to the ground.

"Fuck," Frank commented.

"Holy shit," Peter added as they watched Gabriel pin Sammy down. She tried to thrust the onions at him, but Gabriel simply picked them up and inhaled the scent, showing they had no effect on him. He tossed them aside and was about to bite her neck.

"Help me!" Sammy exclaimed.

Frank charged at Gabriel, only to be punched and pushed away. Peter attempted to stab Gabriel, but Gabriel grabbed the stake, broke it, and tackled Peter, punching him repeatedly. He ripped the cross necklace off Peter and began to stab him with it countless times. Gabriel smelled the blood on his hands before Frank, recovering, tried to stab him. Gabriel grabbed Frank's wrist, yanked the stake out of his hand, and stabbed him in the leg.

"Oh, fuck!" Frank exclaimed, backing away to the door. He managed to drag Peter and Sammy out of the room while Gabriel stood there laughing, watching them flee.

🕯

Annabelle stopped dancing, her movements coming to a halt as confusion clouded her mind. She looked at her hands, puzzled by the familiarity of the dance. Suddenly, she heard a voice, a whisper, softly calling her name. She turned around, seeing nothing but the empty room.

"Gabriel?" she whispered, straining to hear a response.

As she stood there, she felt a ghost-like kiss brush her cheek, making her spin around quickly, only to find herself alone once more.

🕯

Annabelle stood in the main foyer, absorbed in a book, when she heard Frank and the others descending the stairs. "Ah, Jesus, Mary, and motherfucking son of a bitch!" Frank exclaimed, supported by Peter. They helped Frank into a chair, while Peter slumped onto the couch. Annabelle sighed, closing her book, and walked over to them.

Frank pointed at her, grimacing, "Oh, if you fucking say, 'I told you so...'"

Annabelle smiled and chuckled, setting her black bag down. She approached him and grabbed the stake protruding from his leg. "Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!" Frank pleaded.

Without hesitation, Annabelle yanked it out, eliciting a cry of pain from him. "Oh! Motherfucker!" he shouted. She rolled her eyes, pouring alcohol on a cloth. "Why didn't he kill you?" she asked, pressing the cloth to his wound.

"In pain and clearly annoyed, Frank responded, "He is fucking with us!"

Annabelle held the cloth on his wound as he cried out again. "I'm guessing none of those weapons worked," she remarked with a smile.

Frank gritted his teeth. "Well, the stake worked on my fucking leg, and he used the crucifix on Peter like a fucking pincushion. The garlic did fuck all!"

Annabelle wrapped the wound with a bandage. "Well, I have one thing we know does work." She pulled out a syringe. "When I jabbed him with this, he was out, out. If we can corner him, it's nighty-night."

Frank scoffed, "The Sleeping Beauty act was bullshit."

"No, it wasn't," Annabelle countered. "I checked his pulse. His breathing was slow and steady." She stood up, addressing the group. "We split up. Whoever finds him first alerts me through the comms, and I come running with the syringe." Frank held his leg, wincing. "That's great that you're the only one with a weapon that works." Ignoring his comment, Annabelle continued, "Listen, you sit and bleed, or you trust me."

Peter nodded in agreement. "Yeah." He turned to Sammy. "Sammy?"

She nodded, still shaken. Annabelle looked at Frank, who finally muttered, "Fuck."

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By: SilverMist707

I hope you enjoy it <3